Seems it's always crazy times
by Piotr's girl
Summary: Oooh it's a serious songfic. lol it's all Romy with Crazy Times by Jars of Clay. New territory for me. I claim this land in the name of Rivopia! kidding. But it's a touchy and controversial subject, but it's probably my best. Please review, I'd give you a


Ooohhh. it's my serious songfic! hope you like it!  
  
All my love, Piotr's girl  
  
Walking down the front steps at school, Rogue felt as if she were about to burst. Sitting in classes all day, and watching the seconds on the old white clock wall tick by would make you very, very irritable, even more so than knowing the one actually had to go to a school where a person like Rogue was hated and looked at as a freak. Yes, oh yes, she had friends at the institute, more so than she had back in Mississippi. Nevertheless, it wasn't like she could get close to anyone. Her hard life, her "curse" as she liked to call it, had made her realize that no one really cared.  
  
But her half- brother, Kurt, had told her that he cared for her. And that there was a God that cared about her too. She instantly disregarded that glimmer of hope and feeling, and spat out, "If there's a God lahk ya say, then why ain't he helpin' people lahk us? Whare is this God of yers? An' since when do ya care 'bout somthin' ya can't even see or touch?"  
  
His reply was simply, "I have faith in ze Lord, and zat's all that matters. Sometimes vat you believe is all you have."  
  
All these thoughts ran through Rogue's head as she began the long walk home. An older boy that lived at the institute with her, Scott Summers, walked up beside. "Hey Rogue! Wanna a ride home?"  
  
"If Ah wanted a ride, Ah woulda asked." She snarled. Stupid pansy, goody two-shoes.  
  
". . . Okay, see you at home." She saw him jump in his car and drive away, a pretty red-head one can only know as Jean Grey seated in the passenger seat beside him.  
  
Again, this "God" was not on her side. Why couldn't she look like that? Oh no, with her ghostly white skin, dark, narrowed green eyes, and lust less auburn hair with two unusual white streaks that fell around her square face, no guy would even look at her, let alone come near her. Except for one.  
  
He stood, leaning lazily against the tall oak tree overshadowing the sidewalk. He smirked, then crossed his arms over his broad chest. His brown trenchcoat fluttered in the light breeze that surrounded him. Through the dark sunglasses that he wore, one could plainly see his eyes light up as he watched the lone gothic beauty walk past him, unwavering, eyes at her feet.  
  
"Bonjour, mon chere."  
  
She stopped and jerked her head up angrily.  
  
"What are YOU doing here?! Ah'm not lookin' fo' trouble, and Ah'd advise ya ta leave, NOW."  
  
* * *  
  
You're cold that way  
  
And that's why you say  
  
The things that you say  
  
* * *  
  
"Nothin' much, petite, but Remy's not here ta be startin' trouble. Why de bella femme always so angry?"  
  
She just wanted to scream at him, beat him, choke him, kick him, whatever it took to get rid of the smirk that always played on his lips. He was a nice-looking boy. . . oh, who was she kidding? The Cajun was the most gorgeous boy she had ever laid eyes on. But why did he talk to her? Why not the red-head? Didn't he know that no guy in his right mind would ever speak to her?  
  
* * *  
  
You can't attract  
  
The things that you lack  
  
You're trying in vain  
  
* * *  
  
"Why do ya care?"  
  
Rogue turned to walk away when he grabbed her wrist to spin her around. She swung her right arm at him, and he grabbed it and twisted her arm behind her back. She could feel his breath creep down the back of her neck, smell his spicy cologne. She almost liked it, though she'd never admit it.  
  
"Why ya be puttin' on an act, chere? Ya know ya got friends!"  
  
He paused for a moment.  
  
"Even someone who might love ya, and I be wonderin' why ya busy feelin' sorry fo' y'self. There are people lookin' out fo' ya, an' ya jus' don' care, non?"  
  
He released his grip on her, and she turned to face him, seething. Her green eyes were filled with rage, when for some reason, she remembered what Kurt had told her:  
  
Sometimes what you believe is all you have.  
  
Her eyes began to mist, and she shook it away.  
  
* * *  
  
It seems it's always the crazy times  
  
You find you'll wake up and realize  
  
It takes more than your saline eyes  
  
To make things right  
  
* * *  
  
The boy looked at her intently, seeing a glimmer of hope in her sparkling green eyes. If she could just take off all of that heavy makeup. . .  
  
The moment quickly passed as her face clouded over with hatred once again.  
  
"You don't know anything about me, so just leave me alone Gambit!"  
  
She spun on her heel and ran down the sidewalk, clutching her books to her chest.  
  
"Chere, wait!"  
  
His plea went unanswered; she didn't even look back.  
  
"Another day, homme, another day." He shoved his hands in his pockets, tracing the edges of his deck of cards, and walked in the opposite direction. He really needed to clear his head and think.  
  
* * *  
  
You've spiraled down  
  
You've broken your crown  
  
You don't feel like a queen  
  
* * *  
  
Rogue sat on her bed, head between her hands, thinking. What the Cajun had told her when they argued outside of the school had gotten her thinking, thinking of the encounter with Kurt, once again. Did someone really love her? This Gambit, this- 'Remy', as he called himself. . . who was he talking about that supposedly loved her? Was it the same God that Kurt had mentioned to her?  
  
"Rogue! You in here? I was off to ze church for youth service. . ."  
  
"Yeah, Kurt?"  
  
Rogue grimaced as she looked at him being so happy and cheerful. But he was always like that. No worries.  
  
"I vas vondering if you'd like to come to church." He said slowly.  
  
"Ah don't think so, Kurt. Not tonight."  
  
"Come on, mein schweister, you don't have to be ashamed to go! He'll forgive you, he-"  
  
"Maybe Ah just don' wanna go, Kurt!"  
  
He looked bewildered, so she softened her voice.  
  
"Please, Ah'm not feelin' good." Her eyes began to fill with tears.  
  
"Awww, schweister. . ."  
  
He gave her a quick hug and smiled.  
  
"I'll pray for you, Rogue. Remember that."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
And he walked out. Just like that. Rogue sighed. Like praying would really help. But she could use someone to talk to right about now.  
  
* * *  
  
You've seen the proof  
  
But you're still crying 'wolf'  
  
You'll never believe  
  
* * *  
  
Rogue started to get up and find Logan. They were two of a kind. He was one of the few people at the institute who truly understood what she'd been through.  
  
Suddenly, she heard a tapping noise coming from the balcony window. She turned to find Remy smirking at her from the other side of the glass!  
  
"What are ya doin' here?!"  
  
She seethed at him as she slid open the glass door and he stepped gracefully inside.  
  
"Jus' wanted ta see ya, chere." He said, grinning.  
  
She folded her arms across her purple long-sleeved shirt and glared at him.  
  
"I ain't yer chere."  
  
" 'course, petite." He turned to leave.  
  
"Wa-wait! Where are ya goin'?"  
  
He turned back to face her.  
  
"Back to de base, I s'pose."  
  
He turned to leave again. "But Ah want ya ta stay."  
  
He faced her once again.  
  
"Why, chere? Remy like ya, mebe even love ya, if la bella femme give me a chance once in a while. But ya got friends here, and a brother that loves ya. Give dem a chance first. But ol' Remy will always be here fo' ya."  
  
Then he left, too. Just like that. And she burst into tears.  
  
* * *  
  
Try to climb a broken ladder  
  
Grip the missing rungs  
  
And fall down, down, down  
  
Seems some time ago you said  
  
This wouldn't last  
  
And now you sit here crying  
  
* * *  
  
She turned away from the door, and sat on the other side of her spacious room, tears pouring down her face, and her makeup rubbing off every time she dried her face. Remy watched her from the door.  
  
She thought about Kurt's offer about church. Should she go? It was probably too late now, though. Like so many times before, she questioned if there really was a God. She should find that book that Kurt gave her and find out on her own.  
  
She got up, wiping her face, and her face void of makeup. She rummaged through her drawers and found what she was looking for: HOLY BIBLE, NEW KING JAMES VERSION. She opened it to the first chapter and began to read.  
  
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth."  
  
Rogue laughed to herself. "Well there goes the Big Bang theory."  
  
Remy smiled at her as she laughed to herself. Without makeup. She looked so beautiful. And, maybe. . . almost happy.  
  
She read until the pages in front of her eyes began to blur, then she shut the book. She looked to make sure that no one was around. She closed her eyes.  
  
"God, can you hear me?"  
  
She opened her eyes and looked around, then shut them again.  
  
* * *  
  
Beside your bed  
  
You feel left for dead  
  
You kneel in the dark. . .  
  
* * *  
  
She prayed silently for a few minutes, paused, then reached for the phone.  
  
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.  
  
"Guten tag, Rogue!"  
  
"Ah wanna go ta church. Ah think. . . ah think ah believe."  
  
"I'll be zere in a jiffy, schweister!"  
  
click.  
  
A puff of sulfur smoke appeared, and Kurt was there.  
  
"Come on, Rogue. Let's go."  
  
"Yeah, let's go."  
  
They disappeared in a cloud of smoke.  
  
Remy watched from the balcony window, smiling.  
  
"Looks like la bella femme found someone who cares. Good for her."  
  
He crossed his heart, and jumped down from the railing. He disappeared into the darkness of the night that engulfed him.  
  
* * *  
  
She returned home from church that night with Kurt, his arm draped casually across her shoulders.  
  
"God's really that great, isn't he Kurt?"  
  
"Ja, Rogue, he is."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Kurt hugged her.  
  
"You're welcome. I love you, schweister. Good night."  
  
" 'night, elf."  
  
She walked into her room and shut the door. She changed into green knit pants and a long sleeved matching tee. She started to kneel and pray when she noticed a flash of red on her dresser top. She leaned forward to examine it.  
  
"The Queen of Hearts."  
  
She smiled, then noticed the note that lay beside it.  
  
"Ya might not feel lahk a queen right now, but your king is watchin' out for ya."  
  
She smiled to herself. There really were people looking out for her. She just needed to believe. It was all she had.  
  
* * *  
  
It seems it's always the crazy times. . .  
  
* * *  
  
Random rants by yours truly:  
  
Again it's me, Piotr's girl. I don't know how many religious people there are reading this, but I was inspired by Jars of Clay to write this. Plus, on the older series, Nightcrawler was a monk, so why not put it in the Evolution series? Also, yeah, I know that he was a Catholic, but since I live in the Bible Belt, and most of us are Southern Baptists down here. . . Kurt is a Baptist. Capish? Lol  
  
And I obviously don't own the X-Men or anything by Jars of Clay, as much as I'd like to. I hope you enjoyed this piece, since I've never done a Romy or a songfic that involved a controversial issue like this, so it was a touchy and hard subject. I had to go over it a lot to get it the way I wanted. Please review, I love you guys!  
  
All my love, Piotr's girl 


End file.
